


The World Turns, Spins, and Breaks on a Daily Basis, But You're the Gravity That Keeps Me Grounded

by knightofsuperior



Category: SPY x FAMILY (Manga)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:07:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26385382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightofsuperior/pseuds/knightofsuperior
Summary: Loid Forger is on housewarming duty for a week. His family is there to keep things from getting too boring, for better or for worse.Mostly somewhere in the middle.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 55





	1. Fondness Is an Emotion You Don't Really Ask For; It Usually Just Strolls Up Unannounced with a Metal Bat and Gets to Work

“What kind of person brings a toddler to a funeral? And who the hell leaves one there?”

So began the screed in the Ostania Chronicle. Covering at least two whole pages, front and back, this so-called “letter to the editor” was (to put it as kindly as possible) an utter and complete mess. It spoke of crime rings, the Illuminati, the proper way to bake a pumpkin pie, and other assorted topics. It was utter gibberish, and anyone who laid eyes on it would see it as nothing more than the product of someone with too little sense and too much time to spare.

To Loid Forger, however, it made perfect sense. It would’ve been weird for him to  _ not _ understand it.

Though, in the defense of the general public, most didn’t happen to have the Q Cipher memorized by heart.

> **Agent Twilight,**
> 
> **Congratulations on your recent successes. Westalis can rest easy knowing that yet another threat to its continued existence has been dealt with. As thanks for your efforts, we would be glad to grant you a week’s reprieve, so to speak. We will need you at full health for the missions ahead.**
> 
> **However, please understand that this is not a vacation. The Ostanian Secret Service has been surprisingly active in recent days, no doubt as a result of their own investigations into our operations. While we’ve covered our tracks to the best of our ability, we can’t discount the possibility of our movements and communiques being followed-or worse, leaked.**
> 
> **As you may well imagine, we cannot risk your capture, which is far likelier under this current scrutiny than ever before; as such, we ask that you spend the week inside your home for your own safety. We will send Agent Nightfall to address any pursuers you might have, and we will inform you once the issue has been resolved. Please keep in mind that this does not mean you will be idle-your handler will arrive within the next day with some reports and documents in need of deciphering and analysis. We know it's been some time since you last were an Intelligence official, but we're certain your skills haven't atrophied over the years. A little paperwork should keep your mind active as you wait for your return to the field.**
> 
> **As an additional benefit, this operation will aid your appearance as a family man; your late-night missions might be misconstrued by your neighbors as indicative of adultery, so spending time with your wife and daughter will put any such thoughts to rest.**
> 
> **We shall send a messenger should any issues arise that require your direct assistance.**
> 
> **Thank you for your continued service to Westalis.**

Loid folded up the newspaper, placing it into his jacket with a frown. It wasn’t that he didn’t see the logic. If the Service were out and about, that meant the false clues he had been planting weren’t enough. They likely had eyes on him even now...or at least, it was possible Yuri was doing some investigating of his own, and using the Service as a vector to do so. Of all the people to have for a brother-in-law-

Loid let out a sigh, stretching his arms out. He’d done it again. Yuri wasn’t his brother-in-law any more than Yor was his actual wife, or Anya his daughter. The marriage was a sham, a cover for the mission. Nothing more, nothing less.

...but that didn’t mean it was  _ nothing,  _ per se. Yor was a lovely woman, kind and sweet. Anya was rambunctious and wore her heart on her sleeve. Even Yuri, for all his bluster and rage, cared deeply for his sister. Even if the marriage itself was an act, the connections they shared...Loid couldn’t deny there was at least some kind of camaraderie there.

Taking his hat off of his lap and placing it back onto his head, Loid stood up. The rickety bench groaned beneath him. He couldn’t let himself grow complacent. He knew this.

This was all for the sake of the mission.

He had to take this seriously.

He had to treat this as if it were life or death.

...but first, before anything else, he had to go to the store. 

It was his turn to make the grocery run, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be a series of drabbles based on prompts from a Fiction Writing bot a friend put into a discord server we're in. The first prompt given reminded me entirely of spy code, and thus, this was born.


	2. Surprises and Secrets Have One Thing in Common, and That’s The Fact That Everyone Has at Least One Up Their Sleeve at Any Given Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Portals are opened, and a discussion is had on secrecy.

_ They looked back through the portal and then at the new horizon before them. The two worlds were so different. _

_ The world they knew was one where they had to hide in the shadows, where one false move would lead to an early end. _

_ This one, however, was bright and colorful, their current locale a cityscape unlike any they’d ever seen.  _

_ And yet, the streets were familiar. The shops were the same. The cars slightly sleeker, but no less Ostanian. _

_ Yet they all bore enemy colors. _

_ “Bondman, what is this place?” Miss Terry asked, her hand hovering over her pistol. “Is this really where they took Princess Honey?” _

_ “I have an idea,” Bondman replied, sweat dripping down the side of his face. “But I don’t like it.” _

_ “What do you mean?” _

_ “I think that portal took us to another world...one where Westalis won the Spy Wars!” _

_ Miss Terry gasped, her face growing pale. “That can’t be! There’s no way they’d have technology advanced enough to-” _

_ “Don’t move!” Bondman scowled as a troop of armored guards surrounded the two of them, rifles at the ready. A guard clad in red stepped forward, clearly the captain of the squadron. “We’ve finally found you-and it IS you, isn’t it?” _

_ “I am me, certainly.” Bondman glanced between the soldiers, scanning for an exit. “Who’s asking, exactly?” _

_ The captain scoffed. “Don’t play dumb! You finally teamed up with the Resistance, right? Not like you could get something like that-”  _

_ At this, the captain gestured towards the portal, still glowing with Spynium energy. _

_ “-at some corner store!” The guard let out a sinister cackle. “You’ve had the run of this place for long enough! Time to die, Masked Spyder!” _

_ There were a few options open to Bondman: he could do an aerial maneuver and get both himself and Miss Terry out of the immediate firing squad, or perhaps take out the leader in a- _

_ Wait. _

_ Bondman blinked. “Who are you talking about?” _

_ “My apologies, my friend!” The sound of an engine roaring to life filled the air, quickly taking the soldiers’ attention off of the duo. In the heat-hazed distance, a lone figure sat upon what looked to be some sort of...motorcycle? “These fellows aren’t the sharpest bunch!” a mechanically distorted voice continued. “After all…” The engine roared louder as the figure grew closer and closer. “I’m far more unique than any ordinary spy!” _

_ The captain aimed his rifle towards the figure, his henchmen following suit. “Fire!”  _

_ At the command, a volley of bullets burst from the rifles’ chambers, all deadset on hitting their target.  _

_ A target that, in a flash, vanished. _

_ The captain gasped. “What the-” _

_ A glint of light, reflected off of his rifle, caught the man’s attention.  _

_ He looked up just in time to find a boot barrelling straight for his face. _

_ With a thunderous crack, the captain tumbled back, falling to Bondman and Miss Terry’s feet. The two, and the other guards, looked up in awe at the new arrival.  _

_ A green and orange jumpsuit. _

_ A brown trenchcoat. _

_ A full face mask, with the eyepieces shaded to mimic that of a domino mask. _

_ And a fedora, not unlike Bondman’s own, perched precariously atop the mask. _

_ “And yet, they miss all the same, as they always do,” the figure mused. “This is what happens when you fight in the shadows-you lose your way in the light!” _

_ Bondman could feel his muscles tense as his fight or flight response kicked in. “I take it you’re…” _

_ The figure turned to face Bondman. “Indeed. I…” _

\---

“...am the Masked Spyder!” the television blared, a swell of heroic music accompanying the words. 

The screen froze on the frame. “Who is this mysterious newcomer? What is this unusual land? Will Bondman and Miss Terry make it out alive? Find out on the next episode of Bondman,  _ THE WORLD THAT SHOULDN’T BE _ !”

Anya’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates as the credits began to roll. “So cool.”

“I’m...confused.” Loid leaned forward, staring at the television as if it held some sort of great and powerful secret that his mortal mind could not comprehend. “Why would a spy be fighting in broad daylight? Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of being undercover?”

Anya shook her head. “Silly Papa. It’s because he’s masked, duh.”

“But spies are supposed to hide and do their work in secrecy. What kind of spy would just waltz around in public, where anyone could see him?”

Anya glanced at him, her face a mixture of disappointment and disgust. “You do that, though.”

Loid raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to-”

Then, his blood ran cold.

_ She didn’t see the documents, did she? I thought I locked my safe before I went into the living room...if she knows, was she waiting for the right moment to-” _

“You work in a hospital,” Anya continued, a definitive tone to her voice. “You work in public all the time as a psy...psycool...psyduck-”

Loid breathed a sigh of relief. “Psychiatrist, Anya.”

“Right. That. You do that stuff. What makes Masked Spyder any weirder than you?”

“I suppose when you put it that way, he isn’t...wait.” Loid looked down at Anya. “Are you saying I’m weird?”

Anya nodded. “Yeah, but you’re the good kind of weird.”

“The good kind?”

“You’re a grown-up that watches cartoons with me.”

Loid stifled a laugh-one he didn’t expect to have inside of him. “I can’t exactly argue there.”

_ Thank God. She has no idea. _ Leaning back, he glanced up at the ceiling. _ I must have needed this leave more than I realized...I’m jumping at shadows. _

“Alright,” he said aloud, “Cartoons are done. It’s time to study.”

Anya frowned, crossing her arms. “Do I have to?”

“I’m sure Masked Spyder would encourage it. He seems rather verbose.”

“...ver-boats?”

_ This might take a while. _

Loid stood up from the couch, Anya looking up from her seat atop Bond (the dog didn’t seem to mind much, given his endlessly-wagging tail). “I’ll go get your textbooks.”

As Loid went into his room, Anya looked down at Bond. “You agree with me, right?” she whispered. “Papa’s just a...hippo...hippopocratical spy.”

Bond tilted his head.

“You know what I mean.”

After a moment, Bond nodded.

With a triumphant grin, Anya crossed her arms. “I’m more observationant than Papa!”

“What was that, Anya?”

The child’s hand quickly covered her mouth, failing to hide her cheshire grin. “Nothing!”


	3. Truth May Be Stranger Than Fiction, But That’s Only Because Fiction Hasn’t Caught Up To It Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loid and Yuri make a trip to the bookstore.

“A psychologist, traversing through the mind of their patient in a CBT session, uncovers some unsettling truths.” Yuri grimaced as he placed the book back on the shelf. “It’s hard to believe they let anyone publish dreck like this.” His gaze snapped to the man beside him. “However, I certainly hope there’s no truth in fiction when it comes to your profession, Loid.”

Loid returned Yuri’s frown, fidgeting with the brim of his hat. 

This wasn’t  _ exactly _ how he intended to spend his day, especially with his orders to stay indoors. 

However, when your brother-in-law storms up to your door and demands your “assistance” in finding a gift for your wife’s birthday, saying “Sorry, I’m busy with paperwork” likely isn’t the best of answers.

Particularly when said brother-in-law may also have legal authority to lock you in a dark room without food or water if you refuse.

Thankfully, Loid had already found a gift of his own for Yor (a pair of earrings in the shape of two dolphins, something he felt fit her overall aesthetic...hopefully, at least), so his role-according to Yuri-was mostly as an outside advisor. They were to visit a local bookstore and find something that would capture Yor’s imagination. Yor, Yuri insisted, was an  _ avid _ reader, having read bedtime stories to Yuri as a child every night.

Loid hesitated to point out that this didn’t necessarily mean  _ she _ enjoyed books as much as he did, nor the fact that Yuri asking someone else entirely for help meant that he knew as little about her reading habits as Loid did...but arguing was not on his agenda today.

Almost as soon as they walked out the door, Loid could tell they were being tailed-likely hired goons brought on by Yuri himself, ready to strike the instant Loid did or said something Yuri didn’t like.

It was clear that Yuri was trying to catch him in a snare. 

Unfortunately for the secret policeman, Loid had a knack for slipping away from those.

“Hardly. First, I’m a  _ psychiatrist _ , not a psychologist.”

“What’s the difference?” Yuri asked, watching as Loid scanned the shelf like a connoisseur of fine wine looking for the perfect vintage.

“Psychiatrists generally assist one-on-one with patients suffering from various mental conditions, specifically from a medical perspective. A psychologist can work with patients directly, but they mostly work in facilitating programs or using interviews, studies, and the like to help diagnose conditions and illnesses.” Loid pulled a paperback off the shelf, examining the cover. It showed some sort of spaceship, charging towards an endless, starry expanse. “Second, while there are some psychologists  _ and  _ psychiatrists who use those types of methods, my practice is far more by-the-numbers. Sandboxes, Rorschach tests-”

“Oh?” Yuri quirked an eyebrow. His focus shifted to Loid’s right hand, bandaged and slightly bruised. “I heard something about ‘combat therapy’ from Yor?”

Loid flinched. “Ah...yes, it’s a fairly new concept. Some of my patients have…more energy than they can deal with. It’s a way for them to expend that energy.”

(In actuality, this was the end result of dealing with a drug smuggler with a very painful pair of brass knuckles. But Yuri  _ definitely  _ didn’t need to know this.)

“Hm.” Yuri’s eyes raised slightly, landing on the book in Loid’s hand. “Are you certain that’s something she’ll enjoy?”

“Not entirely,” Loid admitted. “As far as I was aware until today, she wasn’t much of a reader. She  _ did _ ask me to surprise her when I asked about birthday gifts, though, so perhaps this will do the trick. A couple more, perhaps.”

Yuri’s brow furrowed. “You’ve been married to her for this long and you don’t know what books she likes?”

_ Neither do you,  _ Loid mused, flipping through a few pages of the book. “In my defense-and hers-she’s always seemed so busy with her career and hobbies. It’s hard to imagine her sitting down for more than a few minutes without doing something.”

“That’s true. She’s always been more out-and-about than a homebody,” Yuri admitted, looking none-too-pleased to have done so. “And yet every time I see her now, all she talks about is her home life with you and Anya. How you’re so amazing, how she’s so sweet.” His words dripped with thinly concealed disappointment. “How both of you adore her meals.”

Loid couldn’t help the sudden shiver that ran up his spine.  _ That  _ was a debatable topic.

“Honestly,” Yuri continued, “She’s head-over-heels. It’s almost sickeningly sweet.”

Loid wondered about how true that was, compared to simply being her laying on the lie as thick as possible. He probably shouldn’t have been hoping for much, but there was that tiny voice in the back of his head, telling him: “You’re lucky to have her, even in falsehood.”

Placing the book in his handcart, Loid chuckled. “If it’s any consolation,” Loid offered, promptly walking past Yuri and towards the “Fantasy” section, “She’s told us plenty of stories about you.”

He waited for a moment, placing a hand on his chin as he feigned deep thought.

Then, Yuri took the bait. “...what kind of stories?”

Loid, his back to Yuri, reached for a faded copy of  _ King of the Bangles _ -a classic, in his opinion, that was far too overlooked by the people of Ostania. “Oh, nothing special. Just a few tales of your childhood escapades.” Loid looked over his shoulder as he spoke, trying his best to not feel a sense of sinister glee at his next words. “I quite enjoyed the one about the time you attempted to fly across the street with your bedsheet grappling hook. She didn’t say if it worked or not-care to enlighten me?”

Yuri’s face flushed red. “No,” he muttered. “Maybe another time.”

Loid merely nodded, returning his attention to the bookshelf. “Another time it is.”

He hoped none of Yuri’s lackeys could see the rare smirk on his face.


	4. Fun and Games Only Are Either When You're Actually Feeling The Former and Engaging in the Latter (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prime-time television.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead, surprisingly! I've just been caught up in a lot of obligations, such as zine work and work-work, among other things. This is more a cold open for what the next chapter's gonna be, so it's a fun little diversion. Enjoy!

“ _ What if the sun doesn’t rise tomorrow? _ ”  _ The Lady Criminale asked, sitting atop the rafters as her grunts surrounded the black-haired man. The smirk on her face screamed arrogance, pride in her every word. “Didn’t it ever occur to you, my dear, that one day your escapades would catch up to you? Whether it was I, or the State of Westalis, or some fool with a knife? Your hubris knows no bounds, it seems.” _

_ The man chuckled, glancing from foe to foe as if he were inspecting cuts of meat from a butcher shop. “What can I say? I enjoy the thrill that comes with danger. That’s why S.T.A.L.K.E.R. took me in, wasn’t it?” _

_ “We had such high hopes for you, Solo, and yet you’re little more than another failed experiment.” Criminale sighed, shaking her head. “At least this final test will provide us with important data.” _

_ “Oh? What kind, exactly?” _

_ Criminale lifted her wide-brimmed hat, her piercing red eyes staring down at Solo. “How many bullets it takes to kill a cyborg.” _

_ Solo sneered, his expression a mix of joy and utter disdain. “And here I thought we had something special. Alright, then...if this is a test…”  _

_ He flicked his wrist.  _

_ A card slipped into his palm from his sleeve, and he held it aloft.  _

_ With his other hand, he threw his jacket to the side, revealing an intricate, mechanical belt on his waist. It had a conspicuous, card-shaped slot in the middle. _

_ “I’d best work hard to keep up my perfect A average!” _

_ Criminale’s eyes widened. “What?! You rebuilt the Mystery Driver!?” _

_ “I told you before-never underestimate the power of a spy! Now…” Flipping the card forward to reveal the visage of a masked man, Solo returned a grin of his own toward Criminale. “ _ **_TRANS-MORPH!_ ** ”

* * *

The screen cut to black. Then, a masked man in a full-body jumpsuit and a trench coat appeared onscreen, driving a motorcycle on a beachside road, lit by the setting sun.

“♪ Is it a crime ♪

♪ To fight for justice? ♪

♪ Is it a sin ♪

♪ To hide away? ♪

♪ Seeking out the truth that lies ♪

♪ Deep within the world of spies ♪

♪ His path is set in bloody stone ♪

♪ But thanks to him, we’re not alone ♪

♪ He’ll be there, lost in the night ♪

♪ Serving as our shining light ♪

♪ Masked Spyder ♪

♪ Masked Spyder ♪

♪ Riding the lonely rail ♪

♪ Masked Spyder ♪

♪ Masked Spyder ♪

♪ Oh, Masked Spyder...♪

♪ Tell us your tale! ♪”

“ **_NEXT TIME, ON MASKED SPYDER-”_ **

Anya turned to her left, staring expectantly. 

Fiona wanted to scream.


End file.
